


Don't Come Down

by afirethatcannotdie



Series: Do Not Go Gentle [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boston, Doctors & Physicians, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Sequel, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afirethatcannotdie/pseuds/afirethatcannotdie
Summary: “I’m excited. Gonna have a lot of firsts this weekend.”Louis swallows and nods, wiping a bit of egg from the corner of his mouth. “First time seeing snow in the northeast, first time at a wedding together, first time meeting my family.”He doesn’t miss the moment of remembered panic that crosses Harry’s face at the last one. Harry hides it well, quickly transforming his face back to excitement once again. “Gonna be great."Louis takes Harry home to meet the family.





	Don't Come Down

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! Been wanting to revisit this series for a bit, and as part of my "publish one fic a month in 2017" challenge I've set myself, here we are!
> 
> Title from The Maine's 'Don't Come Down'.

Louis lets his car door close with a bang and wraps his coat tighter around himself, running up the sidewalk that leads to Harry’s front door. He steps in a slushy puddle and hisses as his sneakers fill with water. It’s dark and cold and snowy, and the only two things he wants are a long sleep in bed and to be with Harry. One of them, he won’t get. But the other, the one that matters more, he definitely will.

Except that said person is currently snoring lightly on the couch, arms curled up by his chest in the fetal position. His hair is messy, button-down shirt untucked from his dress pants, and then Louis notices that he’s still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing for the work dinner a few hours ago.  

Halfway through an important dinner with various medical attendings, Louis had gotten called into a long, grueling surgery. Harry had stayed at the dinner as planned, and then presumably come home shortly after. The patient had survived, which Louis feels good about, but he still feels bad that he couldn’t help prepare for their trip. Harry had done all the packing alone, which doesn't seem quite fair.

There’s an empty wine glass and a medical journal on the coffee table, and it’s easy to picture Harry walking in the door alone, flicking on the light and pouring himself a glass of wine as he waited for Louis to finish his consult and come home. Pouring himself a second when an hour went by and Louis still wasn’t back. Getting tired of reading the articles in the magazine but not wanting to go upstairs until Louis returned, because he’d promised.

Louis places a soft hand on his back and says his name twice. “Come on, baby. Let’s go upstairs, get you in a real bed.”

Harry stirs, groans a little bit, and then reaches out his hand to reach for Louis. His voice is raspy. “Lou? You’re back.”

“Yeah, I’m back. Sorry it took so long. C’mon, bedtime.”

Harry mutters something that sounds enough like an agreement for Louis, and Louis helps him stumble upstairs. Harry’s still half asleep as Louis coaxes him to strip down to his boxers.

“I’m gonna brush my teeth and then bathroom’s all yours, alright?” Louis says, and Harry nods blearily, wiping his eyes and scratching a spot on his hip, just below the laurel tattoos he got recently. He looks as exhausted as Louis feels.

Louis brushes his teeth and re-runs through his mental list of all the things he needs for tomorrow. When he gets back, Harry’s asleep in bed already, hugging the pillow from Louis’ side close. For a sharp moment, Louis misses Harry even though he’s right in front of him; a string of long-shifts on opposite schedules has left them without much time to spend together, and he knows they can both feel it. But then again, that’s what this weekend is supposed to be about.

Louis slides in next to him and then pulls the duvet over them both. “G’night,” he whispers against Harry’s temple.

“Love you,” Harry mumbles, and then Louis doesn’t process anything else because he falls asleep.

* * *

The bed beside him is cold when Louis wakes up. For a moment he thinks it’s just another ordinary work day, and then he hears whistling from downstairs. It’s not just a regular day. This one is special.

He jumps out of bed, pulls on a sweatshirt, and bounds downstairs, filled with a sudden energy even though it's still dark outside. Harry’s standing in the kitchen, bacon sizzling on the stovetop, and he’s wearing only boxers.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Harry jumps, startled, and turns to look at Louis with a pout on his face. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Louis says, crossing the kitchen to wind his arms around Harry’s waist. He rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes him twice. “Morning.”

“Morning. Big day. You ready?”

It hits Louis then: he’s going back home to Boston this morning, and he’s bringing Harry with him.

“I’m ready. How are _you_ feeling?”

“Feeling pretty good about it,” Harry says, tapping Louis’ hands to get him to release his hold so he can turn off the stove. “Even cooked you breakfast and everything.”

“I can see that,” Louis says, turning on the coffee pot. “If you’re trying to convince me to move in with you, you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”

“Wish you would already,” Harry grumbles, flipping the bacon onto two plates, where they join scrambled eggs and two cooked tomatoes.

“Soon, baby,” Louis says, patting his hip and bringing the plates to the table. “Soon enough I will.”

Harry laughs. “Are you waiting for me to kick Niall out first? We already lost Liam to his girlfriend, we’re gonna be dropping like flies.”

“I’d never ask you to do that,” Louis says, and he means it to sound joking, but instead it sounds overly serious.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Harry says, equally serious as he takes a seat.

Louis would love to move in with Harry, but there’s something that keeps him from taking the plunge. They haven’t even been properly dating for a year, and it feels way too soon. But then he thinks about all those months they spent tied to each other, no matter how messy the thread linking them, and the fact that he spends almost all his nights in Harry’s bed as it is. The few nights that he stays at his own apartment, he never sleeps. Even alone, he always sleeps better in Harry’s bed.

“We should leave in an hour,” Louis says, mouth full of food. Through the kitchen window, he can see the sky just beginning to brighten.

Harry makes a noise of affirmation. “I’m excited. Gonna have a lot of firsts this weekend.”

Louis swallows and nods, wiping a bit of egg from the corner of his mouth. “First time seeing snow in the northeast, first time at a wedding together, first time meeting my family.”

He doesn’t miss the moment of remembered panic that crosses Harry’s face at the last one. Harry hides it well, quickly transforming his face back to excitement once again. “Gonna be great. Hurry up and eat, I need you to look through your suitcase and make sure you have everything before we go.”

* * *

Harry maintains his facade of excitement all through the cab ride to the airport, through bag drop off and security. He’s so bouncy and bubbly while they wait in line for coffee that Louis begins to wonder if he projected his own nerves about the weekend onto Harry in the first place. Maybe he really is excited. Maybe it’s only Louis that feels sick-out-of-his-mind-nervous about the whole thing.

“My mom’s wicked excited to see you again,” Louis says, craning his neck to see just how many more people are ahead of them in line. It’s too many; he needs coffee _now._ “She said the twins are too.”

“Which ones?” Harry says, lips quirked in a smile.

“All of them. They can’t wait.” Louis leans his head to rest on Harry’s shoulder, wishing they were on a plane already so they could nap. The first year of residency has not been for the faint of heart; the long hours of intern year have stuck around, with the added burden of being more experienced piled on top. Even though going home in mid-February for a friend’s wedding isn’t exactly the tropical vacation he’s been dreaming of, the lack of responsibility feels like a weight off his shoulders. There’s no patients to take care of, no pagers, no early alarm clocks for four whole days.

“Me too,” Harry says, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist.

“My mom especially. She said she’s gonna take you ice skating, and to the Freedom Trail, and she’s gonna try to get you into Fenway Park even though it’s winter and it’s probably closed, and—”

“Lou, I know. She told me when I talked to her on the phone last week.”

Louis stops and lifts his head to look at Harry.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little excited for you to meet them all.”

“Me too,” Harry says. He sounds excited, but Louis isn’t sure Harry is processing _just_ how much Louis has been looking forward to this trip. His mom had loved Harry when she came to visit a few months ago, but the schedule of a visiting mom didn’t mesh well with an overworked boyfriend. His mom and Harry hadn’t spent much time together beyond a few cursory dinners and a night at the theater. All the same, they’d gotten along beautifully.

Louis can’t wait for Harry to meet all the other most important people in his life.

“The wedding is gonna be really great too,” Louis says quietly a few minutes later. They’ve moved up in the line by now, just a few people from the front, and Harry is bouncing a little bit in place. “Caleb is great, and a lot of my friends from home are gonna be there. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, smiling brightly. “Should be really fun.”

“I’m excited to sleep with you,” Louis says, and it hits him a moment too late. “Not like _that,”_ he continues, shaking his head at Harry’s stunned expression. They’re in public, for God’s sake. “I mean, yes, like that. But also just sleep _next to you,_ every night, for the whole night. Haven’t done that in so long. And it’ll be my childhood house, too. Feels like a bigger deal, you know?”

“Hey, why don’t you take our stuff to the seats at the gate and I’ll get the coffees?” Harry interrupts, the biggest non sequitur in the world. “You know, save us a spot.”

Louis furrows his brow. “But we’re almost to the front.”

“I know, I can get it,” Harry says, removing his arm from Louis’ waist and sticking his hand in his pocket. “Go take a seat and I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”

“Okay,” Louis says, dragging the word out in his confusion.

He takes their bags and heads for the gate, where the sign advertises that their flight will start boarding in thirty minutes. Plenty of time.

If the option had been available to them, he would’ve booked them a red-eye; they’d already be in Boston right now, napping in his childhood bed while his mom cooked breakfast. But duty called in the form of the hospital, and they’d had to settle for the first flight this morning.

He texts his mom and then puts his phone away, pulling out a book instead. It’s a real _book,_ not something he’s reading for work or because he feels like he should. God, vacation is awesome.

A few pages into the book, he looks up, wondering where Harry’s gone to. Surely the coffee line can’t be taking _that_ long, right? Actually, come to think of it, he probably ran into someone that he recognizes from the grocery store or the yoga studio and struck up a conversation. It’s impossible to go anywhere without Harry running into at least one person he knows. Louis often plans for it now, building extra time into any errands they run because Harry will spend ten minutes in conversation about a near-stranger’s children and their vacation and their plans for the next ten years.

Louis loves him for it, always.

He turns back to his book, a little sleepy but content to wait for his coffee, and it’s not until they announce that they’ll start boarding in ten minutes that Louis starts to really worry.

Harry doesn’t pick up the phone when Louis calls. He takes one look at the line already forming at the gate, picks up his carry-on, and goes looking for him.

He finds him near the restrooms a few minutes later. He’s leaning against a railing, coffees on the table next to him, back turned away from Louis.

“Babe, we’re about to board.”

Harry’s shoulders are tightly wound when he turns, and before Louis even gets one look at his face he can tell something is wrong. “What happened, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine,” Harry says, voice a little scratchy. He doesn’t meet Louis’ eyes. “I’ve got your coffee. Sorry it took so long. Ready to go?”

“Not if something’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Harry says, moving to pick up his bag. His eyes are red and something is clearly not right.

Louis steps into his space and wraps his arms around Harry, holding him close, face pressed against his shoulder. He can feel Harry’s heart beating a million times a minute. “What’s wrong? It’s alright, you can tell me.”

“‘S fine, we should go,” Harry says, resisting the hug.

“Harry,” Louis says, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “C’mon.”

Harry’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “I’m excited to go away with you, but I’m also…” Harry swallows and looks into the distance. “I’m really fucking nervous. What if I fuck it all up?”

“Oh, baby,” Louis says, rubbing his back, and Harry sinks into him then, clinging to Louis like a lifeline. “You’re gonna be great. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say, everyone there loves you.”

“Do you honestly think they won’t too?”

“Yes!” Harry says, taking a step back from Louis and running his hands over his face. “I think they’re going to hate me, and you’ll come home and realize that I don’t fit, and you and me will be done.”

Louis is so stunned that he can’t think of a single thing to say to say, so he just lets Harry continue.

“I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin with how anxious I am.”

“I love you,” Louis says immediately. “I love you and my family is going to love you just as much as I do, and there’s never gonna be anyone else.”

“That’s what you say _now,”_ Harry says, face crumbling. “In a week you might feel differently.”

Overhead, an announcement is made that the flight from Seattle to Boston has now commenced boarding. Harry freezes, and Louis knows he only has a few minutes to convince him it’s all gonna be okay.

“Babe.” Louis grips Harry’s upper arms and forcing him to still. “I’m very much in love with you. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one for me. I don’t care what my family thinks.”

Harry softens a bit, but still looks too uncertain for Louis’ liking.

“We don’t have to stay with my family, you know. If you want to get a hotel, and see them only for a few dinners and the wedding, we can do our own thing the rest of the time.”

“You don’t want to do that.”

“If it’d make you feel better, I would,” Louis says, and he wonders if Harry knows just how gone he is for him. If the situation required it, he would raze a city to the ground for this man.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” Harry says.

“I’m just presenting the option,” Louis says, sliding his hands over Harry’s shoulders and smoothing down the soft fabric of his hoodie. “It’s there if you want it.”

“I’m sorry that I’m such a freak about this.”

Louis frowns. “Hey, that’s the love of my life you’re talking about. Be a little nicer please, or I’ll have to send the police after you for being mean.”

The stressed expression on Harry’s face is replaced with a small smile. “You’re an idiot.”

“I love you too. Now come on, we need to get going before the flight takes off without us and we’re stuck in this airport for another five hours.”

Harry takes a step forward and kisses him briefly. He picks up the coffee, Louis takes their bags, and together they set off for the gate.

Louis isn’t certain that Harry knows just how much he would do for him, but that’s okay. He’s got a whole plane ride to convince him, and a long, long time after that.

* * *

Louis sleeps for most of the six hour journey, and when he wakes it’s to Harry grinning beside him, no sign of nerves on his face.

“Hey, we’re here. You’re home.”

 _I already was,_ Louis thinks, without really _thinking_ about it, and the sentiment hits him like a freight train. It’s not the first time he’s processed that anywhere with Harry is the most comfortable he’s ever been, but it’s the first time he’s thought about it in such strong terms. Harry is his and he’s Harry’s, and no matter where they go together he feels at home.

“Yeah. I’m home.”

Baggage claim takes far longer than Louis would like, but Harry is soft and pliant beside him, holding Louis close and rubbing his hands down his arms to keep him warm.

“Looks like there’s not really any snow,” Louis says quietly, confirming what his mom had told him on the phone.

“You promised me snow angels,” Harry says, voice a little petulant as his mouth turns down in a pout.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Louis _had_ promised snow angels, all those months ago when he’d first asked Harry if he wanted to come home with him for this wedding. “I’m sure the baby twins will be happy to do pretend snow angels with you in the grass if you ask nicely.”

“Better than nothing,” Harry says, and Louis pinches his side.

Before Louis knows it, he’s driving a rental car away from Logan Airport, their two suitcases in the trunk. Harry reaches out to tangle their fingers together, resting their hands on the center console. He’s still a little bit nervous, Louis can tell, but he suspects the tension will linger until he gets there and realizes there’s nothing to fear. He distracts him with jokes and funny stories, at least two of which make Harry burst into his seal-bark laugh, and by the time they pull onto Louis’ childhood street, he feels like he’s got his Harry back again.

“Home sweet home,” Louis says. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to Harry, expecting to see fear written all over his features. Instead, what he finds is something that looks a little bit like awe.

“This is where you grew up,” Harry says quietly.

“Yep, this is the place.”

“Which bedroom is yours?” he asks, craning his neck toward Louis’ body to better see the house.

“It’s in the back, facing the backyard. Don’t worry, you’ll get to see plenty of it later,” Louis says. He brings two fingers to his lips, kisses them, and then presses them against Harry’s cheek. “You alright? No cold feet?”

Harry shakes his head. “Nah, I’m excited now. Can’t wait to see all the people that make you you.”

“You’re a sap,” Louis says, and then he leans in for a quick kiss.

* * *

“Coffee? Tea?”

“Whatever you’re making is fine,” Harry says, pulling on his shirtsleeve. His eyes dart around the room, taking it all in. Louis watches his mom watching Harry, an uncertain expression on her face. She doesn’t know what to make of that, too used to a house full of people who say what they want immediately.

The Tomlinson-Deakin house is not a place where people are unsure of things.

“Harry will have coffee and I’ll have tea, please. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “That. Thanks.”

His mom chatters to the two of them about surface things: their flight, the weather in Seattle, their increasing responsibilities at work. Harry is quiet but pleasant throughout, shooting Louis small smiles every so often. He still looks nervous, and Louis wishes there was a better way to make him less so.

Then again, the first time he’d met Gemma, a few months after he and Harry had officially started dating, he’d wanted to shit bricks. So maybe all Harry needs is time.

In the living room, Doris and Ernie are building a blanket fort, and he can hear them chattering to themselves as they decide how best to build it. The older twins are supposed to be supervising, but knowing them, they’re sitting there on their phones playing games.

They’d all been lovely to Harry, taking a great interest in him before Jay had shooed them all away. Lottie, especially, home from college to see Louis, had given him a huge hug, saying how nice it was to finally meet him after speaking on the phone a bunch of times.

It’s all gonna be fine.

* * *

“So this is the great Louis Tomlinson’s childhood bedroom, then,” Harry says, spreading his arms and spinning in a slow circle.

“The very one,” Louis says, setting down his suitcase and collapsing onto the bed. “The only one.”

He watches as picks up a framed photo of Lottie, Louis and their mom, smiling at it before setting it back in place.

“That’s the day Lottie was born,” Louis says, settling himself on the bed so that he’s more in the middle. It’s not the twin bed that he’d grown up in, thankfully, but everything else in the room is pretty much the same. “I’ve had that picture ever since.”

“You have a lot of baseball stuff.” Harry points to a Red Sox pennant that hangs on the closet door. “And European soccer stuff.”

“They call it football, actually,” Louis offers, sticking out his tongue. “C’mere, lay down and close your eyes. Mom’s gonna call us for dinner soon and you’ll want your energy for dealing with that crowd.”

“I will when I’m done looking at your room.”

“Are you looking for anything particularly incriminating?” Louis asks with a cheeky smile. “Embarrassing photos? Because if you want anything like that, you can just ask Lottie or my mom directly. Or even Fizzy, she’s got a lot of stuff.”

Harry throws the same grin back at him. “Your mom _did_ mention naked toddler pictures earlier.”

Louis studies at him as he continues to peruse Louis’ bookshelves, his desk, the pictures pinned to his bulletin board. He expected to feel slightly embarrassed, on the defensive for anything Harry might mock him for, but all Harry does is smile and keep looking.

“I like your room,” he finally says, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in next to Louis on top of the duvet cover. He lifts Louis’ arm around his shoulders and curls up next to him, resting his head on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s like a baby version of you. All the things you were and were going to be.”

For a moment, despite the sound of pans banging downstairs while his mom cooks dinner and the thunder of little feet running through the hallway, Louis feels entirely quiet and content. He’s about to say something sappy, something about how glad he is Harry came home with him and how grateful he is for his presence in his life, when Harry speaks first.

“You ever kiss a boy in this room?”

“Mhm, once or twice,” Louis says, even though it’s a lie. He hadn’t dated anyone in high school, too busy with school and sports and figuring himself out. Harry knows this.

“You’re lying. C’mere, give me a kiss for good luck,” Harry says, trying to make a sexy face even as his eyes go cross-eyed and as he bridges the distance between them, Louis can’t stop giggling.

* * *

Louis wakes to the sound of birds chirping the next morning, feeling dead tired and groggy.

“I thought jetlag was supposed to mean we’d wake up _later,”_ Harry mumbles, face pressed into the pillow. “Not earlier.”

“Sorry, baby,” Louis says. “I’m gonna go take a shower, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in a bit.”

When he gets back to his room, Harry is indeed still asleep, turned toward Louis’ side of the bed. Louis can’t see his face, but he knows exactly what it looks like: his face relaxed save for the crease between his eyebrows, lips slightly parted.

He wants to wake up next to Harry every day for the rest of his life. He’s known that for a while, but seeing him here, in a place that means so much to Louis, the very foundation of his memories, only cements that further.

But Louis won’t allow himself to get sappy just yet. There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow, at the wedding.

“C’mon, wake up, Curly. Gonna take you out for breakfast.”

* * *

“You’re right, that was totally worth getting up early for,” Harry says, rubbing his stomach as they get back into the car. “I’ve never had such good pancakes in my life. Don’t tell my mom.”

Louis laughs. “Told ya.”

“Where to next?”

“We,” Louis says, buckling his belt and pulling out of the parking lot, “are going on the Louis Tomlinson childhood tour.”

“Sounds like a great opportunity for me to mock you endlessly.”

“It is, definitely.”

He pokes fun at Louis for his childhood skating obsession when they get to the skate park — “I _knew_ you were one of those poser kids, I just knew it!” — pouts a little bit when Louis points out the bench where he had his first kiss — “I don’t care that I lived a million miles away, I’m still jealous” — and hugs him close when Louis talks about the academic stress in the pressure cooker environment of his high school.

Louis takes him to his favorite bakery, to his elementary school, to the toy store where he had his first job. He gives him the background for all his stories of growing up, and by the time they pull into the driveway later that afternoon, he feels like he’s revealed a few more layers of himself.

“That was so fun,” Harry says. “I wanna take you home with me now.”

Louis laughs and reaches for his hand. “Soon, baby. For now, one family visit at a time.”

* * *

Louis closes the dishwasher with a bang, turning it on and looking around to see what else needs to be cleaned up from dinner, but his mom stops him.

“Thanks for helping, Lou, but you can go on into the living room. Might want to rescue that lovely boyfriend of yours.”

“I’ll get the rest,” Louis’ stepdad tells them both. “You’ve done enough for today.”

With a nod, Louis’ mom goes upstairs and Louis heads for the living room, where Harry is on the floor under a set of twins, who are giggling and screaming right in his ear.

“Let him up, let him up!” Phoebe cries, dashing into the room.

“We have a present for him,” Daisy adds.

Louis watches as the younger twins roll off Harry, the older ones hand him a belated birthday present they made themselves, and a smile winds its way onto Harry’s face. He looks at Louis with a shocked expression, and Louis merely shrugs, shocked but not surprised.

Of course they love Harry almost as much as Louis does. Why wouldn’t they?

* * *

The baby twins insist that Louis and only Louis put them to bed that night, and then Fizzy wants to ask his advice on a boy problem she’s having at school — as far as he’s concerned, she’s not allowed to date until she’s 29, but he helps her the best he can anyway — and by the time that’s done, he’s left Harry to his own devices for nearly an hour.

He heads downstairs, expecting to find Harry answering incessant questions from his mom and Dan or worse, the three of them staring at the television in uncomfortable silence.

Instead, Harry is sitting next to his mom on the couch, body turned towards her, a mug of tea in his hand. He can hear Dan playing music in his office, barely audible over the sound of his mom’s laughter.

“I cannot believe you never told me about this,” she says, wiping her eyes. “Oh, hey, Louis.”

“Hi,” Louis says, crossing the living room to get to Harry. “Sorry it took me so long, Fizzy had boy problems, you know how it is.”

“Oh wow, look at the time,” his mom says. “I didn’t realize it had been that long.”

Harry reaches out to tangle his fingers with Louis’, squeezing his hand lightly in greeting. Louis hesitates for an instant, wondering what kind of moment he’s disturbed — this really isn’t what he expected at _all_ — before going for it and sliding in next to Harry on the couch, tucking his legs underneath himself.

Wordlessly, while Jay picks back up the thread of the story Louis has clearly interrupted, Harry hands him his half-full mug of tea. Louis takes a sip from it, feels the warm liquid go down his throat, and then passes it back to Harry. Their fingers brush over the ceramic, and Harry puckers his lips to blow Louis a tiny air kiss while he continues to listen to Jay.

“So have you guys already run out of humiliating stories to share about me?” Louis asks. “That’s why you’ve moved on to traveling stories?”

Louis’ mom frowns. “Actually, no, we haven’t talked about you hardly at all.”

“We do have other interests, you know,” Harry offers, entirely unhelpfully. “Other things to talk about.”

Louis pouts. They’re teasing him. Surely there’s no way they’ve grown this comfortable after only an hour together.

“Harry was telling me all about the museums I need to check out next time I come to Seattle. You know, the ones you _refused_ to take me to.”

“We didn’t have time!” Louis protests. “Besides, who cares about art anyway?”

“Me!” Jay and Harry both say in unison, and then they high five.

For a moment, Louis can’t quite believe it, and then it feels like something inside of him expands. They’re getting along. Harry’s sitting here, comfortable on his mother’s couch, chatting to her like they’ve been friends for years. His heart feels a little like it might burst out of his body, chest tight.

It’s such a small thing, but it feels so, so big.

* * *

Louis’ attempt at giving Harry a sneaky blowjob that night derails before it even starts.

“There’s no way in hell either of us are having an orgasm under your mother’s roof.”

“Too late,” Louis quips, and Harry punches him in the arm.

“There’s plenty of time later. You’re an adult, keep it in your pants and come to bed.”

“Fine,” Louis pouts. The chances of it working out for him were next to nothing anyway.

He waits as Harry does his customary three minute routine of rearranging himself, Louis, and all the pillows before he’s truly comfortable, and then he shuts off the bedside lamp.

“I’m sorry if my family was too much today,” he says quietly into the dark.

“Too much?”

“You know, all over you, asking you questions nonstop. Making you get your own glasses, swearing in front of you. The whole thing.”

“I loved it,” Harry says immediately. “It made me feel like I was at home. Like they…” There’s a pause while he gathers his thoughts. “They accept me. Like they like me for _me._ ”

“They _do_ like you. And not just because I told them to, either.”

Harry doesn’t react, which tells Louis that he’s being really serious about this. “They made me a _present._ Your mom remembered that I go to _yoga._ How do they… they care so much, Lou.” His voice sounds a little choked up.

“They love you,” Louis says, that place in his heart expanding a little more. It feels a bit like flying. “And I do too.”

* * *

“Would you sit still, honestly,” Lottie chastises.

Louis turns around to see Lottie gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly, trying to wrestle him into place in front of the mirror. Her other hand holds a comb just inches from his hair.

“I’m sorry! It’s tickling my scalp.” Harry frowns, and Louis has to bite back a laugh at the sad expression on his face.

“I’m not even _touching_ your scalp!”

“It still tickles!”

“You should just do what what she says,” Louis says, turning back to the mirror to adjust his tie. “Make it easier for all of us.”

Harry, who had stood in front of the mirror just a few minutes too long trying to fix his hair, had fallen victim to Lottie’s hairdressing skills. That’s what he’s claiming anyway. Louis might have talked her into it.

Ten minutes later, Harry’s hair is pushed back at the front, sides combed back neatly, and he leaves the room to slip into his suit.

Louis heads downstairs to see if he’s ready, and when Harry comes downstairs ten minutes later, Louis does a triple take.

“I… what… Harry.”

“You like it?” Harry smirks.

He’s wearing a pale pink suit. It’s fucking _pink,_ and Louis knew he was going to be wearing it, helped him buy it at the store weeks ago, and yet he still doesn’t feel prepared for this. If they were anywhere but his mother’s house, he would pull him upstairs and ravish him.

“You… fuck.”

Harry smirks in response, and asks if he’s ready to go.

* * *

The wedding is beautiful. Caleb cries during his vows, nearly kisses his new husband three times before the officiant pronounces them married, and each time that Louis looks over at Harry, he’s wiping tears from his eyes. Louis would like to say he’s doing better, but he’s not. Even a few hours later, tipsy at the reception, he can't stop wanting to kiss Harry every chance he gets. Love is certainly in the air.

“Lovely party,” Harry says, coming back from the bar with a cocktail in each hand.

“It is. Be nicer if you’d dance with me though,” Louis says, reaching around with his free hand to pull Harry onto his lap. Harry’s suit jacket is thrown over the next chair, and Louis rubs his thumb over his hipbone through the fabric of his shirt. Harry presses a kiss to his temple.

“I did dance with you!”

“You danced with me for two songs, and then we bumped into my high school friend and you charmed her wife, and then from there you talked to everyone I know and even some people I didn’t. And thus, no _real_ dancing.”

Harry tickles his side, causing Louis to squirm away from him. He can’t go very far, not with the weight of Harry’s noodle body settled entirely on top of him. “Well, sorry for being _social.”_

Louis sticks his tongue out. “C’mon, drink up.”

A couple hours later, drunkenly clinging to each other on their way up to the hotel room Louis booked for the night, Harry stops to push him against the wall.

“I love you,” he says loudly, words slurred. “I can’t wait to have one of these with you.”

The thought settles in Louis’ blood, warming him from the inside out, and he doesn’t let it go for the rest of the trip.

* * *

_Just got here, text me when you’re out of surgery. Have a present for you._

The text from Harry was sent thirty seven minutes ago. Louis slips the phone back into his coat pocket, checks with the intern about the care plan for a patient who had surgery while he was in Boston, and climbs the two flights of stairs to meet Harry.

He finds him standing at the nurses’ station, chatting to Annie, one of the surgical nurses. He’s so engrossed in the conversation that he doesn’t notice Louis is there until he’s right at his side.

“Hi there, long time no see,” he says, tone joking, and after an initial moment of shock Harry turns to envelop him in a hug.

“Felt very lonely waking today up without you beside me,” Harry says in his ear, and Louis murmurs his agreement. Leaving him in bed this morning after four days of vacation had felt like torture.

“C’mon, where’s my present?”

Harry smirks. “Needy, are you?”

“A little bit.”

He reaches across the desk of the nurses’ station and pulls out a Tupperware container, opening the lid and offering one of the cookies inside to Louis.

“These look like…”

Harry grins. “They’re your mom’s double chocolate chip, yeah. She asked me to sneak them into my suitcase for you.”

Louis can’t do anything but shake his head in disbelief. “You two are ridiculous.”

“She loves you. And I do too.”

Sometimes he thinks about how he and Harry started out, a one-night-stand turned into coworkers turned into fuck buddies turned into a _relationship,_ into the rest of his life, and he can’t believe they ever got to this point. And yet, if he could time travel back to that night he met Harry and tell his past self just how important this man was going to be, he’s pretty sure he would’ve believed him. There was just something about Harry that fit, that indicated he was going to change Louis’ life.

And he has, in all the ways.

“Likewise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! There's a couple scenes that didn't make it into this fic so keep an eye out for them as drabbles on my [tumblr](http://www.afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com) soonish!
> 
> If you liked it, please spread the word by reblogging [the fic post](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/165938514691/dont-come-down-by-afirethatcannotdie-a-do-not-go) or leave a comment!


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